After months of increasingly intrusive and unpleasant tests, starting with a chat on the phone: ‘Hmmm, probably nothing but we should check it out because of your history’. Then a phys-exam, an ultrasound, a CAT scan, a PET scan and biopsies, through to ‘Yes it’s bad, and we will need to throw everything at it this time’.

Devastating. 

Do you know what really, really touched me, and in fact brings me to tears even now when I think of it, as I am writing this?  

There were many deeply upsetting conversations, and as many horrible procedures, and when things were hurting, veins were collapsing, or the doctor just couldn’t quite get to the required spot with his or her sharp instrument, I often noticed there was a hand close enough to mine for me to hold. 

And I found that, more than ever before, I really, really did need a hand to hold.    

Human hands need other hands to hold.  And sometimes the NHS is really good at that.  And we can be good at that too.